


From One Lie to Another

by excentrykemuse



Series: The Wicked Stepmother Verse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Lily Evans Potter, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excentrykemuse/pseuds/excentrykemuse
Summary: Potter might have mentioned something about a Death Eater club that Evans ... being Evans ... couldn't get into.  Lily hated being told what she could and could not do.A Wicked Stepmother Variation.





	From One Lie to Another

“Potter,” Lily said plainly to Snape on the Hogwarts Express home for the summer. “I can’t stand him.”

Snape looked up at her. “What did he do now?”

Lily pushed her auburn hair, so unlike her family’s exclusively blond hair, out of her eyes. “They were talking about this club and when I asked them about it, Potter said I’d never get in. It made no sense. Only Death Eaters are members but he and Black are as well. I mean, I’ve heard the rumors about Regulus Black and Black’s parents, but Potter?”

“A Death Eater club,” Snape checked.

“Yes, that’s what they said: but they’re members.”

His black eyes looked into her own. “Why do you care? No, wait. You don’t like being told you can’t do anything.” He turned back to his notes. “Well, I hang out with some of those Death Eater wizards. Why don’t I just take you, then? They might kill you on sight for being a Muggleborn, but still. What’s it called?” He’d looked back down at his Potions book again. He was writing in it with his quill, which was rather typical for him.

“The Wicked Stepmother.”

His quill paused. Without looking up, he stated, “Lily, that’s not a Death Eater club.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s a pureblood club. You need to magically prove you’re a pureblood and that you have an inclination toward dark magic. I’m not surprised Black has dark leanings given his family, but Potter rather surprises despite his—nastiness.” He dipped his quill in his inkwell, tapping it exactly four times, before going back to his book.

When she said nothing, he paused again.

“This is not the time to resurrect the idea that you were stolen at birth.” His black eyes flashed up.

Her green eyes met his openly.

“Lily,” he begged.

“Severus.”

When they were younger, they had supposed that she was adopted or stolen. Her real parents who had hair as blood red as hers were wizards and that’s where she had gotten her magic. It had remained a fairytale between them, especially when his Slytherin friends were hateful toward Lily though more and more she couldn’t explain them away.

“I can’t go, I’m a half-blood,” he explained, continuing the conversation. “You need loads of galleons. The place is terribly expensive and it’s on Knockturn Alley.”

“Fine then.”

He had told her everything she needed to know. Petunia was getting out of school that same day, strangely enough, and her parents had owled, asking if she could spend the night in London. They’d pick her up the next morning. She had a pair of pale pink robes and now she knew exactly where she needed to go. 

Changing into Muggle clothes, she said goodbye to her friends in Gryffindor and to Snape before catching a cab and making her way to the Leaky Cauldron where she had a reservation. Going up to her room, she changed carefully, trying to make herself look sophisticated. The pureblood girls all wore their hair up so she braided her hair into five braids close to her scalp before twining them around the back of her head, knotting them together in the end. She fortunately didn’t need a tie as she didn’t have any ribbons, only Muggle hairbands. She had over ten galleons that she’d saved up over the years and she put them in her pocket and whispered down the stairs.

Diagon Alley was beautiful in the twilight. At the entrance to Knockturn Alley, she didn’t let herself pause, instead charging forward. She looked carefully at every door, finally finding a battered looking one with a crooked little sign that read The Wicked Stepmother. Picking up her skirts, which had slashes in them showing white lace underneath, she walked forward. The door handle gave way and she walked into a beautiful entryway with polished wooden floors and exposed beams.

A little wizard stood behind a podium. She supposed he was the maître d’.

“Good evening, mademoiselle,” he greeted. “If you would present your card.”

She looked at him and smiled. “This is my first time. I was hoping to apply for membership.”

“Do you have a reference?” He looked at her expectantly.

Pausing, she looked at him. Then it occurred to her. “James Potter and Sirius Black. I’m sorry I don’t have it in writing.”

“Not at all, mademoiselle,” he offered, stepping away from the podium and coming to a wooden cone that was tilted upward at an angle. He indicated it and she stepped forward, waiting. “If you would just insert your wand.”

This must be the test then. Hoping that their little fairytale was indeed correct, Lily prayed to all of the magical old gods and inserted her wand.

Nothing happened. Surely that was a bad sign.

Holding her breath, Lily looked over at the little wizard who seemed completely relaxed. 

Then, slowly, the cone began to turn counterclockwise. Faster and faster and then it was moving so quickly she could barely tell as it seemed to be standing still, holding her wand at that angle perfectly. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. Lily hadn’t realized it, but a tickertape had been coming out of the bottom of the cone and she held her breath again.

The wizard took the paper and read it, his eyebrows rising in shock.

“Is anything—wrong?” she asked in fear.

“Hardly, mademoiselle. You are to receive a black card.” He looked at her with thinly veiled respect.

She just looked back at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“We haven’t given a black card since the 1950s. It signifies the blackest magic. My congratulations, mademoiselle. You are truly to be feared.”

Feared? Her? Little Lily Evans?

“May I have your name for your card?”

That broke her thought. “Lily.” When he continued to look at her expectantly, she added. “Evans.” Now he was staring at her in confusion. “I’m adopted.” Clearly she was a pureblood if she was here and had black magic and a membership.

“I grieve with thee,” he told her calmly as he jotted down her name.

“There is nothing to grieve. All I know is that I have magic and they don’t and I look nothing like them. This was a gamble.” She was perhaps betraying a bit too much, but she was in shock. “And now I have dark magic. I really should learn not to be this curious.”

“Curiosity, mademoiselle, is certainly to be applauded in this instance. You have just proven yourself to be a pureblood.” He gestured to a man in a livery who showed her to a table and gave her a menu for coffee and dessert.

Lily was not ignorant to the fact that there were whispers around her. She could hear snippets of her name and the term ‘black card’ wandering around her. She ordered herself an Irish Mist because she liked the name along with shortbread. As she sat she wondered what she would say to her family.

Mum, Dad. Why didn’t you tell me I was adopted?

That certainly would be straightforward unless she was switched at birth and they had no idea and always wondered why she was pretty when neither her mother nor her sister was. Their faces were more character building, and that was only if you were being polite.

“Mademoiselle Evans,” a calm deep voice addressed her and she looked up to see a man with a smooth face and white blond hair cropped to his ears. In one hand he held a cane with a snake handle in silver and he was wearing a purple and black Asian styled shirt beneath his pale violet robes.

“May I help you?” she asked, swirling her drink before taking a sip.

“I think,” he stated carefully, “the question is the other way around.”

Quirking her eyebrows at him, she set down her glass and indicated the seat across from her. “How can you help me, sir, unless you want to take my exams for me, and I wouldn’t trust you to get better marks no matter your natural intelligence?”

This drew a laugh from him and he crossed his legs. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Heir Lucius Malfoy.”

She paused. “You were ahead of me at Hogwarts. I think you graduated before I got there, but I’ve heard your name among my friend’s associates in Slytherin House. You’re—“ She paused. “You run in certain circles.”

“You are aware of my reputation then,” he stated silkily.

“Peripherally,” she admitted. “My friend is currently be courted. I’m a lowly and pretentious Muggleborn who always secretly thought she was adopted away from wizards, which I think I just successfully proved.” She took another drink. Lily just had to remind herself not to hyperventilate.

“No pureblood wizard would allow his daughter to wind up in the hands of Muggles,” Heir Lucius stated succinctly. “You were stolen, mademoiselle. I know as soon as the Dark Lord hears, he will be appalled by your plight and wish to see you reunited with your true family.”

She laughed a little at that. “What if Dumbledore’s my great-uncle?”

This caused him to smile despite himself. “I highly doubt that given what I know of the Dumbledore family tree, but he would want to see even that come to pass. He would also want to know you, to be your friend.”

Lily was very thankful she had already swallowed her piece of shortbread. She certainly would have choked otherwise. “I beg pardon? I think that’s unheard of in my house.”

“Hufflepuff? No, you came here thinking you were a Muggleborn. Surely you must be a Gryffindor.”

She tilted her head in recognition of his correct guess. 

A waiter came over and he ordered a firewhiskey for himself. “There is no harm in an introduction. I realize that you just had your secret suspicions confirmed and learned that you have incredibly dark magic when you probably never considered that as a possibility before. Hogwarts, after all, only teaches Defense of the Dark Arts and you had no magical family to introduce you to the subject independently. Where do you currently reside?”

“Hertfordshire,” she offered. “I go home tomorrow.”

“Do you have access to a floo? An owl?”

“Severus, my friend, his mother keeps an owl.” Lily looked at Heir Lucius again. “I haven’t agreed.”

“No,” he answered. “You have so much to take in.” Heir Lucius took a sip of his drink. “Still, with your permission I will be in touch and this is my card.” He reached into his robes and took out a card case and gave her one. It was elegant with his name and residence written on it. It seemed he lived at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. “When do you leave tomorrow?”

“Seven.”

“Not enough time to get your blood tested,” he stated with a shake of his head, looking into her green eyes. “Still, that can be remedied. You’re not far from London and only an Apparition away. The Dark Lord will certainly want you tested this summer even if you give him no promises of support. This is a travesty of the worst sort. The Ministry will do nothing to rectify the situation if you are in a safe environment and there is no obvious proof of wrong doing, even if your poor wizard parents are suffering, and Dumbledore will certainly be no help.—Do say you’ll think about what I said when you have a moment to gather your thoughts.”

When they had left, she had received her black card. It was completely black and she had stared at it before slipping it into her pocket. “Don’t lose it,” he whispered to her and she nodded before wishing the maître d’ a good night.

Heir Lucius walked her back to The Leaky Cauldron, telling her stories about his fiancée’s sisters fighting over what to wear as bridesmaids, which had her laughing. 

That night she couldn’t sleep, so many thoughts in her mind. She was a pureblood. She was a pureblood. A pureblood. Her entire world was turned upside down. What had happened to her parents?

She was silent the entire drive home. Petunia fortunately wasn’t there, having decided to stay home, and when they were ten minutes away from Cokeworth, she finally blurted out, “I know I’m adopted. I went to a pureblood club last night where they register your magical heritage and they let me in.”

The car screeched to a halt. Her parents looked at one another in horror, but they didn’t say anything. Nothing was said at all. It was as if she hadn’t spoken a single word and the car started up again.

Lily remained in her room for days, her black card and Heir Lucius’s calling card tucked away in a drawer. When an owl arrived for her from him, she made a decision. She needed to know who she was. Agreeing to meet at the local pub, she decided to put her best foot forward. She couldn’t wear robes and she didn’t own pureblood black. That left summer dresses. Taking one out in yellow with a white sweater, she looked at herself critically in the mirror. Her hair was down. Her family would find it strange if she suddenly fancied a ponytail as she never had before.

“I’m off!” she called to no one in particular, taking her purse which carried a fiver. She saw Snape on the way and the two friends looked at each other.

“I’m glad to see you didn’t make a fool of yourself,” he greeted. He seemed especially sour this morning.

She stopped and looked at him. “Why ever would you say that? That’s right horrid. I’m still not sure why I ever forgave you for calling me a Mudblood even if Potter and Black were being so dreadful.”

“Well,” he stated, looking at her, though they were now walking toward the pub, “a children’s fairy story is just that—a fairy story.”

“You know, I think I liked you better when we were children,” she stated as they entered the crowded pub. “I’m meeting someone, Sev.”

“One of the factory girls,” he flung back cruelly.

She just stared at him. “You know, sometimes I think you should look in the mirror, Sev. Your own father works in the factory with these girls.”

“And yours teaches at the college to all of the children who will one day work there,” he spat back. “That hardly makes him better than anybody else.”

“I should have let them hang you there by your drawers, Severus Snape,” she shot back nastily. “I don’t even know why you speak to me, you think I’m little better than a house elf to clean your boots.”

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted.

“Mademoiselle Evans,” Heir Lucius greeted, “I was sent to look for you as it’s so terribly crowded and we put a Notice Me Not charm on our booth.”

Snape was looking at Heir Lucius in absolute horror.

Heir Lucius was ignoring him completely, which seemed to have Snape worried. If Lily knew anything, it was that Lucius Malfoy was rather important and for someone like Snape—if he were serious about joining forces with the Dark Lord—then being ignored by him was tantamount to political death or at least insignificance.

“How kind,” she stated. “I thought it better not to come in robes. Tuney might see.”

“Yes,” Heir Lucius offered, though he was clearly wearing teal blue robes. “It can be difficult around Muggles.”

The booth was in a corner with a bottle of red wine and four glasses. Lily looked around and saw a beautiful woman with golden hair and a man who—didn’t quite look like a man. They were all resplendent in expensive looking robes and she was drab and small in her yellow sundress and long auburn hair.

“You’re right, Lucius,” the woman exclaimed happily. “Mademoiselle Evans does resemble my aunt, Lady Elnora Black. She was a Prewett, my dear, and they are known for hair such as yours. My Uncle Alphard has a portrait of her in his London flat. I must show it to you one day when you are happily settled with your parents.”

“Mademoiselle,” Heir Lucius offered kindly, “may I present my fiancée who is an expert in all things feminine, Mademoiselle Narcissa Black, and you know the Dark Lord by reputation.”

Lily stared at him a moment too long.

“You have a question,” he asked in a silky hissing voice that pooled straight in her lower stomach.

“Forgive me,” she stated. “I had the highest scores in Charms and Potions for the past two or three decades and I don’t think either could have done that to your face. I’m, naturally, only going into my sixth year, but I would hope I have some grasp on the subjects.” She looked at both Heir Lucius and Mademoiselle Narcissa.

They were looking at the Dark Lord for some cue as to his reaction. 

He was tall. It was apparent even though he was sitting. With a chalk white face, his slit of blue eyes that came through shone out brightly under his perfectly coiffed brown hair. However, it wasn’t quite brown as it had an auburn sheen to it. Pink lips full and utterly—no, she wouldn’t think that. It was the nose that was astonishing. In its place were two slits, like a snake, leaving his face almost completely placid and smooth.

“I commend you, Mademoiselle,” the Dark Lord stated after a long pregnant pause. “Most believe a potion of some kind. It is neither a charm nor a potion, as you have surmised.” He paused and then picked up a large tome from his corner of the table that had been hidden in shadows. “Most purebloods grow up with Spungen’s Guide to Pureblood Dynasties. It will teach you the basics of what you need to know and, when you find your family, your particular culture and traditions. I give this to you in the spirit of friendship, Mademoiselle.”

Disbelief crossed her face for a moment before she took the book out of his outstretched hand, noticing he had beautiful pianist fingers, and she set it in front of her. “Thank you,--I—what do I?” She was completely lost.

Mademoiselle Narcissa laughed. “There is a chapter on Dark Lords,” she assured. “Customarily it is ‘my lord’ or ‘Dark Lord’ no matter the status of his birth, though our lord’s is of course of the highest order.”

“Of course,” she stated hesitantly, a little stunned.

Heir Lucius poured her a glass of wine. “Now, what do the Muggles say?”

“Nothing,” she answered, her eyes constantly drifting back to the Dark Lord. “They stopped the car when I confronted them and then they’ve said nothing. When I locked myself in my room they still said nothing. This is the first time I’ve come out, even to eat.”

The Dark Lord was watching her carefully, possessively even.

“They’ve told Tuney to not even bother me and usually she’s calling me a ‘Freak’ at least five times a day—“ At the sudden stillness at the table, she added, “She’s my sister. We’ve never had the best relationship.”

“Lucius,” Mademoiselle Narcissa stated, “we simply must get her out. Mademoiselle Evans, I was hoping you’d let me take you to Gringotts for a blood test this afternoon after this meeting.”

Before Heir Lucius could respond, however, the Dark Lord spoke calmly and carefully, “I want to be informed immediately. In fact, I shall be present.”

“Of course, my lord,” Heir Lucius said, bowing his head, Narcissa in turn bowing hers as well. However, Lily’s eyes held the Dark Lord’s, strong and true. He tilted his head to the side and Lucius immediately swept to his feet, “A moment, darling.”

Mademoiselle Narcissa, although surprised, likewise stood and took her fiancé’s arm where he led her to a table that was suddenly unoccupied.

Lily looked at the Dark Lord in confusion. When neither of them spoke for several moments, she admitted, “I don’t understand. Why is she Mademoiselle Narcissa and I Mademoiselle Evans?”

“It is a minor point in pureblood culture. We do not know who you are, so your full name is not used when we address you, only the surname you carry. We know that Mademoiselle Narcissa Black was born Narcissa Black. We don’t know your birth name or your parents, so the best guess we have is that you are Someone Evans.”

“How peculiar,” she stated. “We’re all ‘Miss’ and ‘Mr.’ at Hogwarts, but I’m sure you know all that. I now know why the governors chose those titles to equalize everyone in the seventeen hundreds given that Heir Lucius is heir to a title and I think a boy in my class lost his title to a younger brother.”

“Monsieur Sirius,” the Dark Lord agreed. “Yes, Heir Regulus will hopefully wear the title well. I have great hopes for him.”

“Do you choose everyone by their Wicked Stepmother card?” She cast her eyes downward, glancing at the cover of her book, desperately wanting to open it, before she looked up again.

“No. Never. You’re the first.” The Dark Lord picked up his glass of wine and saluted her before drinking from it fully, his gaze never leaving her own. “You are quite the find, Mademoiselle Evans.”

“I’ve never cast a dark spell in my life,” she told him plainly. “I wouldn’t know how.”

“There are teachers for that,” he told her. “Apprenticeships. Madam Lestrange, Mademoiselle Narcissa’s older sister, is proving to be a great pupil of Monsieur Maurus Avery, a trusted companion of mine. If your gifts lie in charms and potions, we can develop that.”

“Are you trying—?” She paused, not wanting to say the next words “to seduce”. They stuck heavy on her tongue and she took a long sip of wine again. Her hand fell onto the book and she flipped it open. There, on the title page in a long, slash-like script read, From one black card to another. LV. She looked up in surprise. “You were the black card the maître d’ mentioned.”

“Yes,” he answered, “though I’m surprised he remembered. Perhaps not. A black card is so rare.”

She nodded feeling that strange heat inside her, molten like lava, making her want to squirm although she forced herself to remain still.

“I would like to see more of you, Lily Rachelle Evans,” he stated plainly. “Nothing like this in a pub where we must sit on opposite ends of the table and put up spells so I won’t be noticed. Muggles are ridiculous in their perceptions of normalcy.”

“You’re coming to Gringotts—“ she stated.

“With a chaperone,” he added. “Then again, there will soon be nothing but chaperones with your hair up in braids and your legs and arms hidden in robes.”

Lily wasn’t sure what to make with such a statement.

Then he reached forward, carefully at first, and tangled his long fingers in her hair. His thumb pad skated against her cheek and her breath hitched as he finally smoothed her hair behind her ear. “There, Lily Rachelle,” he murmured huskily. “I will see you shortly.”

His hand retreated back into the folds of his robes.

Standing up, confused at what had just happened, Lily went over to the table with Heir Lucius and Mademoiselle Narcissa and smiled. “Is Severus still about?” she asked, looking around the pub.

“He snuck off about half an hour ago when we left you alone with the Dark Lord.” This was Mademoiselle Narcissa. She stood elegantly and took Heir Lucius’s arm.

“Mademoiselle?” he asked as he gave Lily his other and she accepted it, holding her Spungen’s to her.

“We’re really going to do this,” she stated in shock as they walked out of the pub. “We’re going to find a quiet spot, Apparate, and prove that my parents are liars and frauds.”

“Yes, dear,” Mademoiselle Narcissa stated carefully. “But we already know that about your parents. You’re a black card.”

“Yes. Right. Of course.”

Heir Lucius left them behind a couple of houses, raising each of their left hands to beneath their lips before letting them go and then taking Mademoiselle Narcissa by the upper arms and placing his cheek beside hers in obvious affection. “I hope we didn’t frighten you, Mademoiselle Evans,” he stated. “Hopefully this will all be worked out soon.”

“Yes,” she stated. “Hopefully. Goodbye.” Lily gave him a small smile and then let Mademoiselle Narcissa grasp her around he waist and side Apparate her to Gringotts.

Their arrival didn’t cause much of a stir. Mademoiselle Narcissa merely looked around and moved around the lines until she found a little goblin at a side desk. “I believe I have an appointment,” she stated. “Heir Lucius was here to see about Mademoiselle Evans.” She indicated Lily.

“Where is Heir Lucius?” the little creature asked in a dry tone.

“I wanted a woman here,” Lily told the goblin honestly, “in case I should cry. I expect it’s the sort of thing women cry over.”

Mademoiselle Narcissa leaned over delicately. “We are also expecting an esteemed personage.”

The goblin looked at the two women and nodded his head. “Come with me, Mademoiselles.” The little goblin got off of his chair and led them down a long hall, which was covered in tapestries, and Lily couldn’t help but look about her. They showed the many goblin rebellions, blood spewing from goblin and wizard alike, and Lily soon decided they were all rather horrible.

They came into a little office where the Dark Lord was already seated and holding a cane of ebony wood with a smooth golden dome at the end of it. Mademoiselle Narcissa curtsied to him and Lily, still as stubborn as any Gryffindor, simply bobbed her head before she sat down.

“She’s a pureblood?” the goblin asked in that dry voice of his, looking up at nobody and everybody at once.

Lily took out her black card and placed it in front of him.

He, for one, didn’t seem impressed and simply passed it back to her where she slipped it into her purse. Before she knew what was happening, thick, short fingers had grabbed her arm and a needle was shoved into her thumb. Lily refused to cry out and instead bit her bottom lip, almost drawing blood, and then nearly lost her balance although she was seated when her arm was roughly turned over. Her blood dripped on a piece of parchment and she watched as words began to form.

Lily Rachelle Evans

Well, she had been expecting that.

However, it then erased itself. Instead, the words now read:

Stefania Elixabete Black

Mademoiselle Narcissa was looking at the name in shock. “You’re a Black?” she asked, looking at Lily in wonder and bewildered fascination.

“Why couldn’t they have kept ‘Elizabeth’ and called me ‘Lily’?” Lily whispered in horror. “Now I have to get used to a name I don’t even recognize!”

However, the blood was still running from her thumb. Lines were moving above her name and words were beginning to form. An “S” and an “T” and the letters continued. For some reason, this drew a gasp from both Mademoiselle Narcissa and the Dark Lord:

Stefan Lycoris Black

More drops fell and they seemed to congeal on the parchment and still a second name didn’t form. Lily looked over at Mademoiselle Narcissa in worry, but she just put a hand on her arm. “Soon,” she promised. “This magic is complicated.”

The three wizards waited another two minutes when finally the name emerged.

Elixabete Anne Burke

“Oh, she’s a Black, too,” Mademoiselle Narcissa state happily. “Great Aunt Belvina married Herbert Burke and that was their granddaughter’s name. She died under mysterious circumstances when I was a child—I suppose it was your birth, Stefania, dearest.”

Stefania, dearest. That was her name now.

“I think, Mademoiselle Narcissa, that you’ve shocked your poor aunt,” the Dark Lord hissed at her. “Congratulations, Mademoiselle Stefania. You are the daughter of a pureblood Black and his cousin. You truly are pure of blood in the typical Black fashion.”

“Don’t scare her, Dark Lord, with histrionics on incest that those not pure of blood cannot possibly understand.” Narcissa sent the Dark Lord a warning look.

Lily’s hand had been given back to her and the Dark Lord had conjured some gauze and was carefully wrapping her finger. She would have called him caring if he were anyone other than who he was. Her mind was wondering, thinking of her name and how her father had been a Black, when Mademoiselle Narcissa’s voice caught her attention.

“I will go over to Uncle Orion’s at once with this parchment,” she concluded. “He’s Lord Black and will make the proper arrangements for Aunt Stefania. I do not know who Cousin Stefan is and I wouldn’t want to give her to the Burkes.”

“No,” Voldemort responded, her hand still between his two pale ones. “Nor I. She knows you now and she knows Lucius. It is better that she is with friends.”

“I don’t like Sirius,” Lily murmured to no one, but the Dark Lord’s penetrating gaze demanded that she repeat herself. “I don’t like Sirius Black. He’s best friends with James Potter and he’s a nuisance on his best days.”

“I’ll tell Uncle Orion,” Mademoiselle Narcissa quickly promised. “How do you like Heir Regulus, though?”

Lily, though, was now picking up the parchment and staring at it. “Stefania,” she whispered. “Do I look like a ‘Stefania’?”

“You were named for your father. It is a sign of great affection and respect,” the Dark Lord told her carefully. “Whether you look like a ‘Stefania,’ however, I could not say.”

“Aunt Stefania, perhaps you can ease into it with Mademoiselle Lily Stefania,” Mademoiselle Narcissa suggested. “If you want me to stop calling you aunt at any point, do let me know. Although, I would rather see you as a younger sister, it is your proper place in the family line. Do agree to be part of my wedding party as a junior bridesmaid. I’m getting married next month and I always thought just my two sisters was a bit of a poor show.”

Then it occurred to Lily, the most inconsequential thing: “I only have one pair of robes and no money.”

“Lord Black will sort that,” the Dark Lord told her, standing and holding out his hand for her, which she gratefully accepted.

Cousin Narcissa—for she was a cousin, of a sort—looked at them in surprise, especially when the Dark Lord offered his arm, and they left the goblin’s office with a quick farewell on Lily’s part. The Dark Lord soon left them, but not before turning to Lily and lifting her hand to just beneath his lips before leaving her to Narcissa.

“You are much favored,” Cousin Narcissa murmured as she took Lily’s arm. “I have never seen him act so with a woman.”

Lily looked at her in surprise. “Really? I assumed he flirted with his followers to gain their political and magical sympathies.”

“No,” Cousin Narcissa stated as they came into the atrium. “Hardly that. He’s aloof with his female supporters. He rarely meets anyone privately. Lucius knew he would only wish to meet you because of your propensity for dark magic. I was only in his presence to help put you at ease.”

“Oh.”

“Now,” Cousin Narcissa said. “I would take you to The Wicked Stepmother, but I’m afraid you’re not dressed. I’m hoping Uncle Orion would like to see you tomorrow so you need a vined ring.”

Lily blinked at her. They were now out in the sun and going down the steps. “Aren’t those the rings some purebloods wear? No one will tell me what they’re for. I would ask James Potter, only he doesn’t wear one.”

“They’re for fidelity before marriage,” Cousin Narcissa stated, showing off her left hand. On her middle finger was a ring that showed a golden vine with flowers, the centers made of diamonds, crawling around her finger to the knuckle. “With the ring I magically swear that I will not touch someone or allow myself to be touched until my wedding night and then only my husband forever after that. You may have noticed the one Lucius wears? It’s platinum with thorns made out of emeralds. Purebloods wear them less and less, but you can get even the cheapest ones for only fifteen galleons and they prove your devotion to your future spouse.”

“But what if a Muggle grabs you and something happens?” Lily asked as they moved through Diagon Alley.

“They can’t,” Cousin Narcissa whispered in her ear. “If it’s a Muggle, they die. If magical, there are serious magical repercussions. Some modernizers think the punishments are too harsh, but it is a pledge. I know you thought you were a Muggleborn, but Aunt Stefania, you haven’t—have you?”

“No,” she answered. “Potter won’t let anyone near me even if I wanted to.” She smirked. “You do not lead me false?”

“No!” Cousin Narcissa promised. “You can ask the jeweler at The Pumpkin Carriage when we get there. All us Black women wear one. Regulus wears one. Sirius is just too stubborn to wear one. He goes against everything we as Blacks, purebloods, and dark wizards stand for.”

They turned down Knockturn Alley and Lily saw The Wicked Stepmother and was surprised to see James Potter coming out of it. She turned away from him and let Cousin Narcissa lead her forward toward a clean little shop that had various snuff boxes in the window.

The jeweler was just explaining the finer points of a vined ring to Lily when Potter followed her in. “Evans? What are you doing in here? I thought it was you!”

“Potter,” she greeted. “I’m here to get a vined ring. They’re very important to my family, so if you wouldn’t mind, my cousin and I would like to have some girl time and shop a bit.”

“Evans,” he stated kindly. “You can’t. You don’t want to, anyway.”

“Monsieur Potter,” the jewelry store owner explained, “I assure you that the young lady has given excellent credentials and can, indeed, purchase a vined ring. She has also professed a desire.”

Looking between the three of them, Potter began, “Never mind the ‘can.’ You don’t want to, Evans. These things bind you until marriage. What if you change your mind? What if you want to nip off early? What if you suddenly have a hankering for Snape and think the only way to get rid of it is to marry the blighter?”

“I don’t want to marry Snape,” she promised. “Please, Potter. Girl time. Jewelry. It’s fun for us and makes men want to guard their credit cards, so go guard yours.”

“What’s a credit card?” He looked flabbergasted behind his annoying glasses.

“Galleons,” she stated. “Go guard your galleons before I decide to spend yours on a vined ring and then you’ll be stuck because I’m never marrying you no matter how many times you ask me to Hogsmeade.”

“Evans—“

“Monsieur Potter,” Cousin Narcissa stated coldly. “You were not invited to this appointment. My aunt and I are here to buy her a vined ring. Will you please be so kind as to excuse us?”

“Aunt?” he stated in shock.

“Potter!” Lily demanded and he looked at her one more time before he was gone. The two cousins watched his trek down the road before turning once again to the proprietor of the shop. “I’m so sorry. Potter can be rather thick.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Cousin Narcissa stated. “Now. I don’t want you to think about price. Just look and see what you like and then I can count it as a wedding expense. Father will never know.”

The roses were rubies, which clashed beautifully with her eyes. What was even better was that she couldn’t take it off even with the consummation of her marriage so that no matter what Tuney did or said, she couldn’t take it from her. Lily came back to Cokeworth tired but happy, her thick book in her hand. She barely had read three pages when she fell asleep, warm and full of wonderful wizarding food and happy.

The sound of tapping against her window woke her up, which was odd because she thought she had left it open. Slowly she untangled herself from her covers and went and looked out to see a shadow in the early morning light. It could really have been anyone except for Snape, she supposed. This just wasn’t his style.

A piece of paper, black and folded over, hovered by her nose and she picked it out of thin air and opened it. In white ink it simply read: Come down. LV.

She looked down at the small alley again and realized that the Dark Lord was the one waiting for her and her heart sped up. Looking about her room and realizing she was only wearing a t-shirt and pajama shorts, she threw on a robe and trainers before squeezing out of her window and scrambling down the drainpipe.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to get back up,” she greeted the pale face of the man whose mere presence stirred her blood so much that it frightened her.

“You’re leaving here today,” he responded, not answering her concerns. “Lord Black wants you safe with his family.”

“That means Sirius,” she griped to no one in particular, looking to the side.

If she had been looking at him, she would have realized. The Dark Lord placed his hands on either side of her face and, leaning down, kissed her softly. Lily breathed through her nose in shock as her brain caught up to what was happening and she gripped him by the shoulders, knowing she didn’t want to let him go.

Then: she realized it. Magic was passing from his hands to her cheeks and then from her cheeks back into his hands.

Pulling away, she gasped, “What was that?”

He looked at her solemnly and pulled back his hands, but she simply followed them, much to his confusion. “It was a kiss.”

“I know that,” she answered. “I meant the magic.”

At that he smiled. “Something dark,” he whispered, coming toward her so that he was looking down at her, her face tilting upward, their lips hovering close to each other so that they shared the same breath. “Something wonderful.” He was practically kissing her now and she was rolling up on the pads of her feet to get closer to him, her nose nudging the slight definition of his own.

“Something magical,” she finished just before he claimed her lips again.

When the sun had come up, the two of them were sitting on an old abandoned bench behind the row of houses. His long pianist fingers were playing with hers and he was inspecting her vined ring. “I remember when I got my own,” he murmured into her hair. “I wasn’t from a great family like the Blacks. I saved for over a year for the four galleons I would need. I ended up stealing some from Professor Slughorn.” He laughed, a hissing laugh, and she giggled along with him.

“The Dark Lord, a thief for a vined ring,” she chided as she took his in, a simple vine with no ornamentation, winding back and forth, here and there, from the base of his finger to his knuckle in simple steel. “It’s simple. It’s pure. Mine reminds me that I came from somewhere once where I wasn’t trampled upon by my own sister: where I would have been wanted, even if my father had been a lost member of the Blacks.”

“It surprises me that your mother married him,” the Dark Lord admitted. “She was a girl of good standing herself. She wouldn’t have been disinherited, but it certainly would have been looked down upon if he wasn’t even known.”

“Perhaps that’s why no one knew,” Lily offered. “I wonder how I came to be here in Cokeworth.” She felt a kiss placed on her forehead and then fingers were in her hair, drawing it away from her face to better see her profile. “I wonder how it will happen today.”

The Dark Lord was quiet for a long moment. “Lord Black will come with a law wizard and at least one auror, and then you will be taken to your new home. I would dress comfortably as a Muggle. Keep your robes for tomorrow or later today.”

“All right,” she answered, leaning against his shoulder. “Cousin,” she paused, “Cousin Narcissa says you aren’t—friendly—with your followers. What are we doing? You’re feared by everyone. I’ve hated my dearest friend for wanting to follow you because of what you think of Muggles and Muggleborns and dark magic, all to find that I’m a pureblood and apparently the magic I breathe is the darkest of all.”

His pointer finger traced up the life line on the palm of her hand. “I certainly hope you don’t kiss every man you hate.”

“Voldemort!” she chided, startling the both of them. Silence fell between them as they stared into each other’s eyes, slits of blue and startling green. 

Finally, he picked up her hand and started tracing the lines again. “You really shouldn’t call me that, Stefania. People will think you’re dear to me and will either take unfair advantage of you or try to hurt me through you. Neither is an enviable position.”

She pulled her hand away but he grasped it right back. 

“Stefania,” he stated simply. “I said what they will think, not whether or not they were right. You also don’t want to accidentally refer to me so familiarly, even around your family.”

“You haven’t said what we’re doing—“

“—We’re playacting at being lovers,” he stated harshly. “Until your uncle claims you it can be no more.”

She looked at him hard before glancing away. “I fell asleep too early in Spungen’s.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, “but we are both wearing vined rings which suggests fidelity in all our romantic dealings. Be content in that until our situation can be more formalized, if that is what we choose to do.” The Dark Lord took the palm of her hand and kissed it in what Lily suspected was rather shocking for a pureblood. He stood smoothly before tracing the line of her cheek. “Good luck, Stefania.” He then picked her up and she floated to her window, where she climbed in and fell onto the floor.

Although it was warm that day, she wore jeans and t-shirt, mucking about her room with Spungen’s. She knew exactly when they came. There was a knock on the door and then it burst open. Running downstairs, she saw a wizard arresting her mother and another searching the house. A man dressed completely in black who looked almost exactly like Sirius turned to her and smiled. Coming to her, he picked up her hand and knelt formally over it. “Cousin Stefania. You are exactly as my niece described you.”

“Lord Black?” she guessed and he smiled at her again. 

Her mother was being led away in tears and then Petunia was screaming and knocking Lily down the last few steps from where she was standing.

“Silence, Muggle!” Lord Black commanded, slicing the air with his wand, and Petunia fell, clutching her throat. He turned back to Lily as if nothing had happened. “I do apologize for all this unpleasantness. Unfortunately, we had to arrest your captors simultaneously with your recovery as you are not yet of age. It proves that you are, in fact, their prisoner.”

“Oh,” she stated in shock, watching as Tuney was now hauled away. Lily wondered where Dad was. They’d find him soon enough. “I packed my trunk. I only included a few jeans and dresses to get me started. I don’t own black,” she apologized. Black was the pureblood color of the adolescent upper classes. If anybody were anyone, they wore black on the weekends and after classes. Lily had never cared for the color and so, well, not that it had mattered much before last week…

“All will be well,” Lord Black promised, following her up the stairs. “I understand the Dark Lord has taken quite a shining to you. My niece Narcissa was telling me only this morning over breakfast.”

Well, that was one way of putting it.

Changing the subject, she instead asked. “Where am I going?” She took her copy of Spungen’s, opened her trunk, and put it inside. Not having a pet, Lily didn’t have to worry about a cat or an owl.

“Grimmauld Place,” he answered, resizing her trunk. “You’ll be with me and Lady Black. I know you dislike Sirius, but my brother-in-law Monsieur Cygnus is trying to plan a wedding and all of his children are out of Hogwarts. Also, as Lord Black, I am automatically your guardian.”

“Right,” she stated, following him down the stairs into the now quiet family room. The pictures on the mantelpiece seemed to taunt her with a happy life that was nothing but lies. “Will they get it out of them what happened?”

Following her gaze, Lord Black looked over her shoulder. Everyone was blond except for her, a stain of auburn blood against the shining gold. “If the Auror Department can’t, no one can by legal means,” Lord Black assured, though there was a dark promise in his tone. “Come, dear. Lady Black is anxious to see you.”

Walburga, Lady Black, looked nothing like Sirius, and was a beacon of beauty in the gray shadowed townhouse. She had a Grecian profile, the gray eyes, strangely enough, and blonde hair like Cousin Narcissa’s. She took one look at Lily before circling her with a vulture’s eye. “Good figure,” she muttered. “Cheekbones are a little high to be fashionable, but one could do something with that chin. Your hair is appalling. Dear, from now on you must put it up each morning before breakfast. We are your family now, but you’re so old it would be ridiculous to adopt you so it is unseemly for us to see your hair.”

“Right,” Lily stated. “I can do it up now.”

“No, dear, today you rest. Tomorrow we’ll sort everything out. Do you have any robes?”

“A pink set. I used them to get into The Wicked Stepmother.”

“Excellent,” Lady Black said, leading her into the drawing room and to a tea table set for the two of them. “Now. I am your Cousin Walburga and my husband ‘Cousin Orion’. My children are your Cousins Sirius and Regulus. Sirius keeps on threatening to decamp to the Potters, so give him no particular attention if he threatens it in front of you.”

“I know Cousin Sirius. We’re in Gryffindor together.”

Cousin Walburga looked startled. “Another Black not in Slytherin. Your father was an odd one out, though, so I suppose it is to be expected. You wish to be ‘Stefania’?”

“Yes. I think my full name would be a bit much.” Just thinking about it was a bit much. She picked up her teacup and took a sip of rose tea. It was absolutely heavenly.

“Hmm,” was all Cousin Walburga would say. “Narcissa has taken quite a fancy to you. I’ve told her not to fret too much as she has the wedding to plan, but she wants you to come along to her appointments. Bellatrix—Madam Lestrange—is to be Chief Bridesmaid, but she wants you nonetheless. You’ll stand up with their sister Mademoiselle Andromeda. There’s a Dark Horse for you.”

“I’ve never been to a wedding.”

“I don’t know how the Muggles do it, but the wizards put on quite the event,” Walburga told her conspiratorially. “Do you have a beau? If not, Regulus will squire you. It will look good if the Heir is the one to take you.”

“Oh,” Lily squeaked, pinking.

“There is someone,” Walburga stated. “I never had a daughter, only a ruffian son who likes Mudbloods and white magic, and then Regulus. Sirius can’t get into The Wicked Stepmother without a family member as he has no natural inclination toward dark magic. He’s the shame of the family. Is your someone of good standing?”

“I—“ Lily swallowed some tea. “I don’t know if we’ll survive my homecoming. It’s terribly complicated everything.”

“Of course, my dear cousin,” Walburga stated, placing her hand on Lily’s. “I can understand how this changes everything. Yesterday you were a Mudblood—I can see how you don’t like that word—and now you’re cousin to Lord Black. Everything must be reevaluated.”

Lily nodded emphatically. “Just—don’t believe what Cousin Sirius says. Potter is sweet on me and I think he’s a toe-rag. I don’t want him allowed alone with me in a room.”

Walburga’s gray eyes widened, perhaps with a hint of maternal madness. “That would have been an interesting development, but I’ll tell Kreacher, our house elf. Tomorrow we’ll go for robes and Lord Black is currently seeing to your finances and dowry. I can say nothing about your father, but there is also your mother’s fortune, of course.”

At Lily’s frightened look, Walburga placed a hand kindly on hers.

“Hush, dear. You’re safe now.—Ah, Regulus. Come and meet your Aunt Stefania.”

A tall, lanky boy, rather handsome with hair cut about his ears and the gray eyes of a Black, came in. He was wearing finely tailored black robes in a style that Lily didn’t recognize at all. “Heir Regulus,” she greeted. “You’re going into your—fourth year—in Slytherin?”

“Yes, Aunt Stefania. I understand you and Sirius rather dislike each other.”

“We do,” she answered as he took her hand and bowed over it, bringing it to hover beneath his lips before releasing it, untouched. “We have a rather contentious relationship. I’m sure not everyone is friends in Slytherin or, I daresay, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.”

“No,” he answered. “I daresay not.” He paused, as if thinking. “I’m sorry Snape called you a ‘Mudblood’ this Spring.”

Lily startled and Walburga set down her cup so hard in its saucer that it clinked audibly. “Thank you,” Lily stated. “It wasn’t the finest hour of our friendship.”

“There have been rumors about you in Slytherin for a good year now, so there was a bit of backlash, Aunt, if that is any consolation.”

A little creature with leathery skin, large ears, and tennis ball eyes had come in with a matching chair and was placing it at the table, and Cousin Regulus took a seat. A new cup was procured and Cousin Walburga poured her son a cup of tea.

“Rumors?” Lily asked. “Severus never mentioned any rumors.”

Cousin Regulus seemed caught for a moment before his gaze held with his mother’s. “It’s just, you look so much like a Prewett.”

“I’ve heard the name. There were those twins when I was a first year.” She looked between her two cousins, mother and son, who shared nothing in common apart from their cheekbones and eye color.

“Elixabete’s mother was a Prewett,” Cousin Walburga explained. “There is a striking resemblance.”

“So,” Lily stated cautiously. “My fairytale that I had different parents who had magic—was a rumor in Slytherin—and Severus knew and never told me? We’ve been talking about it since before we came to Hogwarts!” Clearly agitated, she set her cup down.

Cousin Walburga calmly filled her cup. “Come, dear. This will soothe you.”

Lily picked up her cup dutifully, hoping the tea had some sort of magical properties. 

“I’m afraid so,” Regulus finally answered. “It was just a rumor. Someone noticed it one day after you had a rather—passionate—argument with Sirius and mentioned it to me, and then it was generally discussed for a good month, but no one could prove anything. We knew what you knew: that you were the daughter of two Muggles named Evans. You just seemed so magically inclined it seemed unbelievable.”

“I know,” she answered glumly. “Every time I came top of my class I thought that it was surely unusual for a Muggleborn to perform so well no matter what Dumbledore said.”

The three sipped their tea for a few moments before Regulus broke the silence.

“I’m so glad that I might have an ally against Sirius. Being the younger sibling can be difficult, especially as he was the heir to the title.”

“Petunia was two years older,” she commiserated, “and she always got her way because she didn’t have magic—and she was biological, come to think of it.” Lily sighed. “Are there books on how to do your hair?”

“Yes, dear one,” Cousin Walburga stated. “Kreacher will do your hair while you are here. I’ll give you a subscription to Witch Weekly so you can see some of the styles en vogue for young ladies your age along with a few fashion magazines from Paris, and you’ll soon learn what you like. Then I’ll teach you a few spells for when you’re off to Hogwarts.”

“Excellent.”

Regulus was the one to show her about. They were running about like two wild children, shouting out to one another, and when Lord Black (“Cousin Orion”) returned, he laughed at them heartily. Despite what Cousin Walburga had said, Lily dressed in a blue summer dress with cap sleeves, white sandals, and put her hair in a long braid for dinner.

She was the last to remember where the family dining room was and tripped over Kreacher as she opened the door. “Sorry!” she called from the floor and Cousin Regulus helped her up. “I just need to learn to look down.”

“Evans?”

Lily looked over to see Sirius.

“Hello, Black,” she greeted, coming to an empty seat beside Cousin Orion, which seemed to be her place as his cousin and ward. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’ve been at Lupin’s,” he stated in complete confusion.

“Oh. Good fun? Quidditch?”

Sirius, however, didn’t answer. “What are you doing here? How are you here? How have you not been hexed?” He looked at his parents and Cousin Regulus in complete confusion. “Is this a prank?”

“Yes,” Lily responded, sitting and picking up her napkin and setting it on her lap. “This is one giant prank, Black.”

“Cousin,” Cousin Orion chided before turning to his son. “You remember I told you your aunt had been discovered. I understand you go to school together.”

“Evans is my aunt?” Black asked in horror. “My best mate can’t fancy my aunt!”

Cousin Walburga just looked at him. “I’m afraid to tell you that if your best mate in this instance is, as it always has been, James Potter, then he does fancy your aunt from what I understand. Mademoiselle Stefania Black was stolen by Muggles and has been reclaimed by the House of Black. She is your Aunt Elixabete’s only living child that we know of.”

“Elixabete,” Sirius stated carefully. “Is she even on the Tapestry?”

Lily looked at Walburga quickly.

“Is she even a Black?“

“That’s quite enough, Sirius Arcturus Black. An unknown Black, your Cousin Stefan, married my second cousin Elixabete Burke and had your pureblood aunt, who is sitting before you. As much as we regret not knowing the offshoot her father hails from, this is no stain against Cousin Stefania’s pure magic or her character. Is that understood?”

For the first time in her life, Lily saw Sirius Black look cowed. “Yes, Mater.”

“Thank you, Sirius,” she responded.

Sirius, though, wasn’t done yet. “Does this have anything to do with James seeing you with Cousin Narcissa at The Pumpkin Carriage?”

“Yes,” Lily answered as Cousin Orion served her a slice of ham. “We had just had my blood tested and we went to get me a vined ring. She assured me it was a family tradition.” She looked around the table and saw that everyone was wearing one apart from Sirius. Regulus’s was a beautiful gold and silver plate that alternated back and forth and caught the light depending on how he shifted his hand without any other ornamentation.

There was a clank as Sirius dropped his utensils. “You didn’t.”

“Sirius,” his father warned.

“No, Father, Narcissa couldn’t have. Next thing she’ll be sipping tea with all of us at The Wicked Stepmother!” Sirius was looking at his father angrily, gray eyes clashing with gray.

Lord Black didn’t give an inch and finally Sirius flung back from the table and strode toward the door. It slammed behind him.

“I rather like The Wicked Stepmother,” Lily stated into the silence. “I’m not giving it up for Sirius Black of all people.”

Regulus, bless him, tried to compose himself but he started laughing, which started Lily. Cousins Orion and Walburga looked at each other before ordering champagne and the four had ham and champagne of all combinations before Lily went to explore her new room.

Kreacher woke her the next morning and helped dress her in her pink robes and then did her hair in ringlets that were pulled back away from her face. Sirius stared at her throughout breakfast while she ate her porridge and syrup. Before she went out with Cousin Walburga, Cousin Orion pulled her aside.

“You are quite the heiress,” he told her. “Your mother had a considerable dowry. I set up a trust for you, which should be more than enough for your basic needs: your no doubt extensive wardrobe, your accounts at Flourish and Blotts, The White Witch, The Wicked Stepmother, various jewelers, and whatever you need for your education. The rest is for your dowry. I will monitor your expenditure so that if adjustments need to be made, then we can make them. Is this acceptable, Cousin Stefania?”

“I have carte blanche,” she checked.

“Essentially.” He placed a key in her hand. “And you were in the Prophet this morning. I didn’t make a fuss in front of Sirius, but I’ll leave the article out on your desk.”

“Of course,” she stated. “I need to start my essays soon,” she realized. Impulsively, Lily kissed his cheek and then went to find Walburga. Before she got there, however, Kreacher handed her an envelope. It was an invitation to lunch at The Wicked Stepmother the next day with Cousin Narcissa and Heir Lucius. Perfect.

“Dear Stefania,” Cousin Narcissa greeted, “you look heavenly in blue.” The two cousins embraced and Lily looked down at her robes of slashed black and blue cotton. 

“I went shopping for hours yesterday with Cousin Walburga,” she shared. “I now have my first pureblood black for around Grimmauld Place and back at Hogwarts. I own so much I can’t believe Kreacher put it away so quickly! Do you know how many introduction letters I have from students I already know at Hogwarts?”

“I’d imagine,” Cousin Narcissa laughed. “Everyone will want to know the newest Black. You’ve read about the four lords?”

“Yes,” Lily answered.

“Apart from Andromeda, you’re the only eligible Black daughter, and it’s common knowledge you’re the ward of Lord Black himself instead of his niece. All the Prewetts of our generation have married. There’s a Prince daughter, Lucrece, of course, and there are no other Malfoys. You’re a high priced commodity.”

Lily laughed. “You make it sound like a commercial enterprise.”

“It is,” Heir Lucius greeted, taking their hands in turn before placing his cheek beside Narcissa’s. “Mademoiselle Narcissa and I were lucky enough to find affection in our commercial transaction.”

“I can see that,” Lily stated happily. “I hope that for myself, if I may be so bold.”

“We hope you nothing but the best,” Narcissa assured as they were shown to their table and given menus. “You have your pick of society. Also, you have years to decide.”

Her mind automatically went to the Dark Lord and to the portkey he had sent to her in one of her many introductions earlier that morning. She had almost given herself away at the breakfast table when she had opened the envelope, but had set it aside with the others, telling Kreacher to put them on her desk before secreting it to the top.

She told Kreacher that night that she would see to herself. Normally she would let him take down her hair and put away her robes. Instead, she remained in them, sitting on a loveseat reading a novel about Guinevere she had found at Flourish and Blotts. It suggested that she was a Squib. What an interesting take on the legend.

When the clock chimed one in the morning, she carefully got up and took the bookmark the Dark Lord had sent her in one hand. It was a portkey that would activate outside of wizarding wards at quarter past one. She whispered down the hall and tiptoed down the stairs and was startled when, all of a sudden, the candles came to life and the gruesome house elf heads were cast into stark relief.

“I thought there was something about.” Cousin Orion walked out of the Tapestry Room. “Kreacher said you didn’t want any help undressing. I thought you might be making a run for it. I thought we had made you at least comfortable here, Stefania.”

“I am,” she stated in shock. “I’m not running away. I just—“

“Where else are you going at one in the morning?”

“I—“ She bit her lip and looked into the room at the clock. It was six minutes past one. “I only have nine minutes before this activates.”

“You may be my cousin, but you’re under my care. Where do you think you’re going at one in the morning, albeit dressed like the pureblood lady that you are?” Orion’s gray eyes seemed haunted as the shadows of the candles played under them and she looked up at him. It was startling just how much like Sirius, and Regulus for that matter, he looked.

“The Dark Lord,” she answered finally, not giving the full truth away. “I’m going to see the Dark Lord.”

It was as if she said the magic words, but she thought so too soon. “Then you shall see the Dark Lord.” He took her hand and led her down the back stairs and out into the garden, through a gate she had never noticed and into some Muggle garden. “The portkey will work here.”

“We’ll be arrested for trespassing,” Lily laughed at the absurdity of it.

“Let them try,” Orion dared and then there was a hook at her navel and she was landing hard in another garden. She fell to her knees and was glad to see white pianist fingers extended to her when she looked up from her position on the ground.

“Dark Lord,” she greeted, “my cousin believed I was running away.”

Orion Black was standing tall in his green and blue robes and the Dark Lord, in his ice blue and teal ensemble, looked over at him as if he was barely worth a glance. “Your cousin is safe, Lord Black. I will send her home again.” This seemed to be all the dismissal the Dark Lord required.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but if my cousin requires training surely there is a better time—“

“I shall visit you on the morrow,” the Dark Lord stated harshly, still not looking at him. “Now allow me to myself.”

As soon as there was the sound of Cousin Orion disapparating, the Dark Lord had cupped the back of her head and was gently kissing her and the need was once again pooling in her stomach in a way that she could barely describe. She pulled him closer as her fingers toyed with his robes, his hands going around her waist and his arms trailing up her back between her shoulder blades. His lips ran down her jawline, hidden in her high open collar, in small open kisses. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she pushed herself closer to him, one leg even pushing itself along his, wanting to drag him as close as possible.

The Dark Lord was nearly a foot taller than her, but she knew that they needed to be melded into one.

One of his hands skated up her high black collar and into her curls, tugging her head gently back to give him better access to her neck, and she reveled in the sensations. She must have been lost to herself, for when he gently pulled away, she settled against his chest, hearing the rapid heartbeat. 

“Darling,” he stated into the cool night air, “our hands have been forced. We must decide what to do.”

“You understand this so much better than I,” Lily admitted. “I’ve read about courtships but you can’t take me to tea, show me about in drawing rooms and balls. I don’t even know if you would want that. You wear a vined ring, but would you even potentially want a Dark Lady, especially a silly schoolgirl, albeit a prefect with a black card?”

He hissed a laugh into the night. “What do you want, Stefania?”

Stefania. Stefania. It was her name now and it sounded so natural coming from him. She didn’t mind that he wasn’t calling her ‘Lily.’

“I don’t want this to stop,” she admitted.

His thumb ran across her hairline. “If we do this, you will be the most feared and reviled woman in Britain,” he warned her. “You will be tested by some, envied, hated, loved, and those are only cursory emotions from my followers, darling. Are you ready for that?”

“How can I be?” she answered truthfully, “But I’m walking in with my eyes wide open.”

He nudged her nose with the pad of his thumb. “True,” he whispered. “True.”

Lily could barely sit still all the next morning. She had only had a few hours of sleep and Cousin Orion was looking at her as if he expected an explanation. The third time she caught him looking at her expectantly, she stated, “He’ll be here.”

“Who’ll be here?” Sirius asked, glancing between the two of them.

Walburga fortunately intervened. “I want you to go see if Narcissa needs anything from us today. Be helpful. Cygnus needs someone to help keep his head on straight. I expect you’ll be all day.”

“Mother,” Sirius actively complained. “Why don’t I just go visit Jamesie if you want me out of the way?”

“That boy has too much influence over you,” Orion stated off-handedly. “You’ll go see your uncle as your mother says. No discussion. Take Regulus with you.”

Regulus looked up but didn’t even bother putting up a token protest. He just went back to his eggs. It was clear he expected something was up.

“What’s happening?” Sirius then asked.

His brother sighed.

Lily looked at him with a smile. “I’m in trouble. They need to sort it.”

“You’re not necessarily in trouble, Cousin Stefania,” Orion placated. “Once there’s an explanation, which I’m sure will be forthcoming, all will be put right, but until that time, I want everyone out of the house.” He looked directly at Sirius. “Is that understood?”

“I’m going to—“

“Pack up and go live with the Potters,” Regulus finished for him. “Yes, we know. Haven’t you listened to the rumors? Aunt Stefania is a black card. That’s how we found her.”

“Evans is a what?” Sirius squeaked.

“Cousin Stefania,” his mother corrected, “is a black card. She walked into The Wicked Stepmother and presented herself. We have Heir Malfoy to thank for her safe return.”

Sirius was just staring at his mother and then turned his eyes on Lily. “You actually presented yourself? Who’d you name as reference?”

“You and Potter.” She cut another slice of her ham. 

He didn’t say another word.

Lily knew exactly when the Dark Lord arrived. It was as if a behemoth of power resonated through Grimmauld Place and the epicenter seemed to be her cousin’s study. She waited in the Tapestry Room, pacing the floor back and forth, and wondered why she ever thought it was a good idea to wear this particular shade of purple with her hair.

She was trying not to bite her fingernails when she felt the Dark Lord moving toward her. Before she could turn, a finger ghosted down her cheek and long pianist fingers skated down her arm until their fingers were entwined. Lily looked up to see the Dark Lord, his slit of blue eyes gazing down at her.

“Very well,” Cousin Orion stated. “You honor us with your interest in Mademoiselle Stefania, my Lord.”

“Her magic and breeding are more than adequate inducements, and I understand she is unusually intelligent and even breaking records that have held for a few decades.” He squeezed her hand.

Orion looked happily surprised. “I did not know. I have yet to review my cousin’s academic record as her guardian, though I am pleased to hear it. I will leave you to yourselves.”

Quickly leaving, he closed the door behind him.

“Please tell me you’re not courting me for my ‘breeding’,” she begged. “I honestly think I have none.”

“As a Black,” he countered, leading her toward the sofa, “you have impeccable breeding, though I wish you were in that little—sundress—you were wearing when we first met?” The Dark Lord leaned forward about to kiss her and she pulled away, laughing.

“You were serious?”

He whispered in her ear. “I desire you and your magic, Stefania. I liked looking at your legs even if they were hidden under a table.”

The Dark Lord could only stay the half hour, but lifting her hand to beneath his lips reverently in the presence of her cousins, he then floo’ed away with nary a word, leaving Lily with all the explanations.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, Cousin Orion,” she began to apologize, but he set a hand on her arm.

“I can easily understand why, Cousin Stefania. Your romance will not be an easy one, although I cannot imagine how it would not be rewarding.” He smirked at her. “However did you meet?”

“Heir Lucius,” she responded. “He introduced himself as a representative. I am a black card, after all.”

Regulus came back alone. “He’s debunked to the Potters. Sirius left after about half an hour, claimed he didn’t even need his clothes, and Uncle Alphard would surely loan him some money.”

Lily looked at Walburga. “Who’s Alphard?”

“My brother, Cousin.—I’ll see what I can do about Alphard.”

“Why don’t I just go get him?” Lily suggested. She was lounging in pureblood black, her legs encased in black leggings, a frilled skirt loose on her hips, and an opaque blouse. “It will be fun letting Sirius know he debunked because my suitor was around—without letting him know who my suitor is.”

“Beloved,” Walburga corrected. “Once you’re courting, he’s your ‘beloved’.”

“Oh,” she stated. “Thank you.” Lily got up. “Time to tell him to stop being an idiot and that my beloved has gone so he may come home. Don’t worry, Cousin Walburga. If I fail, at least I’ll annoy him.”

She rushed to the floo and then realized she had no idea where she was going.

Regulus had followed her. “Potter Abbey,” he supplied.

“Cheers!” And then she was gone in a swirl of smoke, only to step out into a foyer of dark wood. No one was about. “Hello?” she called, moving forward. “Cousin Sirius, I know you’re here! Potter!”

She almost ran into a man with a balding head, a crane’s neck, and a bit of a paunch belly. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m looking for my nephew. He’s apparently run away to this location.”

“Nephew,” he stated. “Sirius is your nephew?”

“Yes,” she answered. “There’s been a bit of a mix up. My beloved was over and Sirius felt unwanted. That’s not the case at all. Beloved merely values his privacy and cousins running about practicing magic does not guarantee that. So, Sirius?”

The man took out the pipe from between his lips and pointed at her. “Of course, Mademoiselle. He’s upstairs.”

Lily ended up leaning up against the threshold of what seemed to be Potter’s bedroom.

“It’s sick. Evans is actually sitting and chatting with my mother about robes and Cissy’s wedding. She’s in it, apparently. She’s wearing one of those chastity belt rings. You’ll never get her in he sack by the time we graduate, Jamesie.” The two friends were leaning against the other side of the bed, blowing magic rings from the end of their wands—blue, pink, green, yellow.

“I don’t think Beloved would like that,” Lily stated, surprising them.

They looked over the bed and Potter even squeaked.

“Sorry you got kicked out, Cousin Sirius, but I promised Cousin Walburga I’d try to bring you home. Beloved came over to ask your father’s permission to court me. There was a little bit of confusion considering that he only knew I was a pureblood when we met and all of a sudden I’m a Black and your father’s ward.” She smiled. “So, you coming?”

“Beloved?” Potter asked in shock.

“Yes,” she answered. “I’m afraid I’m romantically spoken for at the present and you were never going to get me in the sack unless you used Amortentia on me, Potter, and as that’s illegal I certainly wouldn’t recommend it.—Sirius. Home. There’s a house elf ready to dislike you for not properly hating him.”

“I’m not coming back.”

“Black,” she stated carefully. “You have nothing but your wand and robes that you keep fidgeting in. This is the worst runaway attempt I’ve seen in awhile.”

“Have you seen many?”

“I’m friends with Severus. He’s constantly trying to run away from you,” she deadpanned. “Come on. You’ve lost your title, you don’t want to lose your trust.”

“Uncle Alphard—“

“Is being dealt with,” she told him. “I’m also related to both him and his beloved wife along with having been stolen. I’m a far more sympathetic Black to leave one’s fortune to than you are, Sirius.” Of course, she was just guessing. She hadn’t really met most of the Blacks as of yet, but maybe she could rattle his confidence.

“Who are you courting?” Potter asked with a hopeful look.

She smirked at him. “You’ll never guess in a thousand years, but I will tell you he’s a very private person. Sirius, come back so you can play pranks on him and get hexed in return.”

“Right, right,” he said, getting up. “I got the message five minutes ago.” As they headed down the stairs, all three of them, Sirius continued, “But really, who is he?”

Lily only laughed.

However, the next days were nothing if not sobering. The aurors had done their work on the Evans, but Lily doubted that would be the end of it. There was just too much to be done, too much retribution that the Dark Lord would demand. He would get to them somehow. With powerful men such as Heir Lucius Malfoy on his side, he was bound to have someone close to the Auror Department in his pocket, someone who could get to the Evanses. Somehow they could be lost, or someone could slip in unnoticed for an hour or two in the middle of the night.

The thought secretly thrilled Lily when she thought of all that dark magic, when she thought of how the Dark Lord would make them scream for what they had done to her father, what they had possibly done to her mother.

Of course, the story had come out and Lily had been brought in with Orion and informed. Lily had remained stoic as the Head Auror had explained what they had learned. Orion asked all the pertinent questions, and Lily just sat there in complete shock. 

Not speaking to anyone when she got home, she found parchment and sent a note to her closest confidante. 

“Cousin Narcissa,” she greeted, not getting up from her seat at The Wicked Stepmother. “Have you heard?”

“No, dearest,” Narcissa murmured, taking her seat regally and reaching to take Lily’s hand. “What’s happened? I heard about your courtship. I really must say I’m pleasantly surprised.”

Lily smiled a little. “It’s not that. It’s the Evanses.” She took a sip of her tea. “They lost their baby so they went mad.”

“Hush, dear,” Narcissa plied, coming over to sit nearer to her aunt. “Tell me exactly what you know.”

“Peter and Rose Evans had a baby that was three months old. They named her Lily. Rose was in a park and I appeared in front of her. I had the wrong color hair and eyes that were green, but she didn’t care. I was a child, although older than the infant they had lost. She had been blonde haired and blue eyed like all of them. It seems I Apparated there and before my father could follow me, she took me.” She delicately wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Walburga was sure that she bought several that were magically monogrammed for her in the style she wished. “I know nothing of my father. I don’t know my birthday except that I am at least fifteen as I’m eligible for Hogwarts. My letter came to ‘Lily Evans’ instead of ‘Stefania Black.’ How did that happen?”

Narcissa was looking at her sympathetically. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Stef. I’m so sorry. We will find your father, the recalcitrant Black, even if he’s a half-blood or a Squib.”

“It’s just—accidental magic. Something so wonderful and joyous.” Lily tried so hard not to sob. “Rose Evans described it as a ‘gift from God’. Horrible woman. She stole me before Father could follow.”

“You were a baby,” Narcissa coaxed, running circles on the back of her hand. “There was nothing you could have done and what’s important is that they didn’t stifle your magic and you are home with us now. The aurors found this out?”

Lily looked up with sad green eyes. “Yes. We were called in this morning. I wrote to my beloved and I’m waiting to hear back. I know he would wish to know. I strangely sent an owl to Father as well even though he’s probably lost forever and doesn’t want a dead child resurrected.”

Narcissa leaned back with a smile. “Hardly. Wizards want their children, their heirs. They’re dear to them even if they’re as dreadful as Sirius has proven. We just don’t know who or where he is.” A cup of tea came for her and she smiled at the server and asked for a plate of biscuits. “This will all come right.”

“I wonder what they’ll do with Tuney,” Lily suddenly wondered.

“Your supposed sister? They may let her go. Of course, the Dark Lord would never allow that.”

“She didn’t do anything.”

“She was tacitly complicit. She stood by and watched you grow up and if she even had an inkling of what her parents did, then she was in the wrong.” Narcissa glanced around them briefly before refocusing on her aunt.

“Lily,” she stated, saying her own name. “I was named for a dead Muggle child. That just seems wrong.”

“‘Stefania’ is such a lovely name in comparison.” This was Narcissa.

“Yes, perhaps,” Lily stated, putting down her cup. “Strange to think I was named after both my father and mother. I’m surprised Father and I both not named after stars or, well, I’m not named after a flower, like that child ‘Lily’ was.” Lily shrugged, not really thinking about it.

“Wizard tastes change,” Narcissa explained away. “Just wait for the Dark Lord.”

And the Dark Lord came. 

Sirius was in the room when the Dark Lord swept in and enveloped Lily in a hug, covering her in his robes, only her blood red braids showing as she buried her face in his shoulder. “They will pay,” he promised her. “As soon as I can get to them, the Muggles will pay.”

“How could they do that?” she whispered against him. “My poor father. They preyed on him and he was never able to find me. He probably didn’t even know where to look.”

“Hush, Nia,” he quieted, shortening her name for the first time. “He gave you all of his magic; he was destined to give you this gift and it kept you strong through your trials.”

She laughed. “Such is the way with wizards. I knew I didn’t come from Muggles. I always felt it. I know there are Muggleborns, but I always knew.” She moved away and looked up at him. She heard rustling behind her and sighed, turning her head to look at him from the corner of her eye. “Sirius, stop staring,” she commanded.

Arms snaked away from her waist and the Dark Lord pulled away. Wand in hand, he walked up to Sirius. “You are a Black,” he checked, hissing. “Yes, I can see it in your eyes. Must I call your esteemed kinsman, Lord Black, to assure your silence or should I steal your memories right here?”

Sirius just stood there, his eyes wide and staring. 

“Expecto Patronum,” the Dark Lord whispered and a thin beautiful adder came from the end of his wand and slithered out of the room.

Lily watched it in fascination.

There was not long to wait. There was the sound of footsteps and then Orion arrived, looking at the tableau, Sirius near the wall, the Dark Lord looming over him, and a still and silent Lily in the center of the room. Taking out his own wand, he whispered “Obliviate!”

Sirius blinked, looking around, and then passed out onto the floor.

The Dark Lord turned his attention back to Lily as Sirius was levitated out of the room. “Nia, darling,” he murmured, coming up to her again, whispering his fingers across her forehead and down her nose. “They will suffer at the end of my wand.”

“What will happen to my sister—to Petunia Evans?” she asked in a whisper. “I can’t remember the auror saying. I just—it all became too much.”

“You have no love for her,” he checked and she shook her head. “She will be made to answer for her crimes against magic that I drag from her memory. I am not a kind man, Stefania, and they will be made to feel it.”

She hesitated. “I tried to send my father an owl the day I learnt his name, but I have heard nothing. I don’t even know if he’s in Britain or alive. I want my father, Dark Lord. They stole me from his arms—or as good as. It will change nothing about me. One of your followers will teach me dark magic next summer, I will go about wizarding London, and I will be sure that you are admitted to any house I live in. Can you find him?”

He looked at her pensively, his slits of blue eyes roving her face. “There are trackers.” It wasn’t a promise, just a statement of fact.

“Then I will trust in you,” she swore, “and hope to hear from him.”

For the first time that night he kissed her, all consuming and full of need, and she pushed herself up on her toes as she wrapped her arm around his neck, driving him closer to her as his tongue slashed through her mouth in a controlling gesture. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, but she held onto him, trusting him, and he caught her when she leaned back to breathe in deeply through her nose. But then he was kissing her again and her torso was pressed against him intimately.

There was a knock on the door what seemed like hours later, and they pulled away from each other. The Dark Lord’s lips looked chapped and reddened. Lily was sure she didn’t look much better but he muttered a spell and he was much restored, and he performed it once again on her.

He strode forward and opened the door, revealing a man that Lily had never seen before.

He was wearing black brocade under silver robes. He had a graying goatee and black hair tinged with gray. He wasn’t a handsome man but he was certainly a powerful one. Bowing, he looked between her and the Dark Lord. “My lord, my lady,” he addressed them. “Forgive me, but you told me to inform you—“

“Yes,” the Dark Lord agreed, turning back to Lily, regret in his gaze. “Nia, may I introduce Monsieur Theodred Nott, my most trusted vassal? He is gifted in charms and not unskilled in potions. Nott also has a great mind for particularly nasty hexes as opposed to curses. I was hoping that you would allow him to teach you Dark Magic next summer.”

She walked forward and offered her hand. “Monsieur Theodred. I cannot imagine a more glowing introduction. It is a pleasure to meet you and I hope I’m a worthy pupil when the time comes.”

“It is an honor to sever our lord’s chosen lady,” he stated in his dark voice. “My lord.”

The Dark Lord signaled that he wanted a moment. He reached out with his pianist fingers and lingeringly touched Lily’s cheek before he was gone through the door, his magical presence leaving with him. 

Lily was bereft without him.

She didn’t see him again for several days. Lily did, however, have a letter from Severus. He had sent an introductory letter but she had ignored it, feeling peevish. This one was more imploring and she agreed to meet him at Florean Fortescue’s.

Wearing white and black robes that were long slashes of each color, each color eating the next, she met him.

He was unchanged. 

“Lily,” he greeted, coming over with his ice cream.

“Stefania,” she corrected. “I don’t know why I don’t insisted on ‘Black’. Last time I saw you—well—we were both in Cokeworth.”

He sat and took a scoop of ice cream, which she had paid for. They both knew he couldn’t afford it otherwise.

Carefully, he took a bite. “Did they find you? Is that how it happened?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I was at The Wicked Stepmother contemplating the fact that my parents weren’t my parents when Heir Lucius made the overture. Everything was personally arranged. I’ve already been offered a tutor for next summer.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Are you really such an asset?”

“I carry a black card, Severus.—My entire world has flipped upside down. I’ve discovered that I am everything that I have hated, and everything that I was, that the Evanses made Lily, was in fact a lie.” She took a scoop of her ice cream. “I’m a Black and in Gryffindor. I’m only the second Black not to be in Slytherin.”

Snape nodded. “Pureblood culture never looked so beautiful on a woman.”

She looked at him softly. The open secret hung between them. Snape had always coveted Lily’s attention, had held onto her desperately despite being in Slytherin with Death Eaters. 

Glancing toward the street, Lily admitted, “I have a beloved.”

“It’s been less than a fortnight!” he exclaimed, clearly surprised.

She shrugged. “I’m desirable?”

“You were desirable before you were a Black,” he stated harshly into his ice cream. His lank hair, which nearly reached his shoulders, fell near his eyes but he didn’t push it away. Instead he took another scoop of his plain vanilla ice cream, the color contrasting with his inky black eyes.

Despite herself, a small smile crept onto her face. “Beloved agrees with you. He didn’t even know my name when we met. It’s fortunate that Cousin Orion allowed the courtship.”

“Did he know you were a pureblood?” he asked scathingly, his eyes flicking through his hair, only their glossiness betraying them through his strands of hair.

Lily’s eyes shot up to him. “Severus,” she warned.

“Did-he-know-that-you-were-a-pureblood?” he demanded, his black eyes flashing.

She finished up her ice cream, fairy powder. It was a light lilac color and had been her favorite since second year. “Not that it’s any of your business, but, yes, he did. We met just before my bloodline was tested at Gringotts. He was with Heir Lucius, so you can see he keeps exalted company. I’m standing up at Lucius’s wedding,” she admitted, dropping his title. “He’s marrying my cousin, Narcissa.”

“This wizard, whoever he is since you don’t seem to want to tell me, doesn’t deserve you then,” Snape spat viciously.

“Why?” she balked, “because he knew my blood status when we met? Everyone who reads The Daily Prophet knows exactly who I am, let alone that I’m a pureblood.”

“You think this pureblood enthusiast would take offense at your father,” Snape contemplated. He wasn’t looking up so he missed the fire in Lily’s green eyes.

“The Black family is a large clan,” she reminded him. “My father is undoubtedly a pureblood, was married to the granddaughter to another Black, a pureblood. There was nothing to take offense to.”

“But did he want you? He seems to have given you to Muggles,” he spat. “And where is he?”

Her eyes turned cold, and she didn’t speak a word. Instead, blotting her mouth carefully so a limited brush of red lipstick would come off onto the cotton napkin, Lily stood, leaving her china bowl. 

“Goodbye, Severus.”

He didn’t respond. The friendship may have been damaged irrevocably.

Her robes wisped along the cobblestones of the alley. She walked into The Leaky Cauldron and took the floo back to Grimmauld Place. Tears slowly formed in her eyes and she walked up to the women’s parlor and pressed her ear against it. There was rustling behind the door, showing that a silencing spell had not been put up and as there were no voices, there was only one person present: probably Walburga.

She knocked and heard her cousin call her in, and she opened the door to reveal the person she thought was behind it.

Tears streaming down her face, she closed the door behind her. “Why are people so cruel?” she asked before she fell into Walburga’s arms, who threatened to gut whoever had hurt her.

After a particularly grueling day of wedding planning a week later, Lily returned to Grimmauld Place, knowing that she couldn’t put her mind to her essays. She was about halfway through. She knew for a fact that Sirius hadn’t even started his.

Kreacher was waiting for her. “Ma’amselle has a guest.”

“A guest?” she asked, looking down at the gnarled creature. “Who?”

“Black,” he responded as if this told her everything. 

Lily glanced at him and then swished up the stairs toward the Tapestry Room. Uncertain what to expect, she stopped in front of the door and fiddled with her cuffs. She was wearing lilac with pink cuffs that extended two inches, opaque and shivering against her lower palms. They matched her low collar that kissed mid neck. Her hair was up in braids as it usually was. Lily favored her hair being braided close to the scalp in four to seven braids before being placed in different hairstyles. Today they were wound on top of her head in loops. 

She wondered what Black was here to see her. She had just seen Narcissa and Andromeda. Cousins Cygnus and Druella would probably not call on her specifically. There was always Cousin Alphard whom she had yet to meet. Cousin Walburga’s father was still alive, she thought, but Lily wasn’t quite sure. Everyone else was female and married.

Steeling herself, she opened the door and walked in. There was a figure standing and looking at the gritty old tapestry, his finger tracing down various lines in interest. He had a head of messy black hair and was wearing pure white robes.

As the door snicked shut, he turned to reveal a handsome face that was marred with a scar that cut through one eye, the other one completely gray. He had her cheekbones and her chin and the strange white complexion that was unnaturally pale even for purebloods.

Her breath caught as they took each other in. Swallowing, she asked the question she had been wondering for over a week, “Did I Apparate away?”

“From your crib,” he told her carefully. “Usually you just went to another room in the flat, but I couldn’t find you. I tore the flat apart. It took me five hours to realize you had gone somewhere else, and by then I couldn’t track you using the usual magics, little girl.”

“I liked Apparating that much?” she laughed, coming forward and sitting down near him. 

“Oh, you couldn’t get enough of it,” he promised. “It started after your mother died of Plague. There was an outbreak in Coventry where six wizards died, including her. You were afraid to be alone so you would Apparate from your crib into bed with me. Then you would Apparate from one room to another if I went to get something and then—you Apparated somewhere else.”

“A park,” she answered. “The Evanses admitted I appeared in a park in Hertfordshire.”

He blinked at her. “I couldn’t say why. We passed through Hertfordshire once. Perhaps you remembered it, Stefania. Is that what they call you now or have you kept your other name?”

“No,” she admitted, leaning forward toward him a little, taking in his face, each little nuance. “I’m called Stefania now. ‘Stef’ sometimes. My beloved calls me ‘Nia’, though I think he’d take offense if anyone borrowed that.” She laughed despite herself. “We’re not on the tree.”

He pointed to a charred mark under the name ‘Phineas Nigellus’ and ‘Ursula Flint’. “Father was the second son—‘Phineas.’ He was a ‘Muggle Sympathizer.’”

Lily’s heart sank. 

“I’m his one child and you’re my one and only. I couldn’t bear to remarry after Elixabete and I wouldn’t have been able to have another child after I had lost you. I never stopped looking, Stefania. Every face I looked into, every little girl with auburn hair and green eyes, I looked for you.”

She smiled at him tremulously. “You have to know I am a very dark witch, Father.” Lily tried out the word on her tongue. It felt strange, but this man before her was exactly that: her father.

“I was told as much,” he answered hesitantly, finally sitting down across from her, which put some distance between father and daughter. Stefan Black looked carefully at Lily, his good eye raking over her face, at their similarities, perhaps how she resembled his late wife. “Your beloved found me when your owl couldn’t.”

“You’re not going to say his name?” she asked, suddenly tired once again.

His gray eye pierced her. “Unlike my father, I have little politics. I have chosen to stay out of this war, not that I’ve had any use for it until now. I stay much to myself, have stayed much to myself since you disappeared. I left England when you went to Hogwarts and there was still no sign of you.”

This made her ears prick up, but she said nothing.

“If you feel that he can treat you as an equal and give you true affection,” he stated carefully, “I will not stop you. I have not had the privilege of raising you. I cannot know what damage was inflicted on you before you came to live here with my cousin. I only have the right to love you as the woman you are now and of trying to protect you as much as I am able. I am prepared to return to Great Britain, I am prepared to allow your courtship within the privacy of the family, and I am prepared to allow you to be raised in the greater traditions of the Black family as you are of a like mind with the general inclinations of the clan. I want you not only safe but happy, Stefania. I am your father.”

“Where have you been?” she asked in desperation.

“America,” he answered. “They’re terribly liberal there when it comes to blood purity. It hardly matters. It was quite shocking when I arrived. Owls are useless when it comes to the post. You have to pay for the sea express.”

“Oh,” she stated, defeated. “But you’re coming back to stay?” Hope crept back into her tone.

He smiled at her gently. “Yes, Stefania. I’m coming back to stay.” Carefully, he stood and strode over to her and she stood up, surprisingly only a few inches shorter than him. He reached out and traced the side of her face in fatherly affection. “I always kept Arrowhead Point in Coventry. We can move in in a few days and I’ll have your room sorted for you.”

“It will be a relief to be away from Sirius,” she mentioned and he looked at her in concern. “We’ve never got on. He’s best friends with this boy who won’t stop asking me to Hogsmeade and he’s rather a prankster.”

“We can’t have that,” he teased, tweaking her nose in what seemed like a familiar move. “Now, I’m back for dinner, but there’s much to do.”

She walked him to the door and paused at the threshold. “Will you tell me about Mother?” she asked desperately. “Later?”

“Of course, firebird,” he promised, clasping her chin between his fingers in affection before he went down the stairs toward the floo.

Lily watched him go, a pool of white in the dark house. Regulus came up behind her from somewhere on the upper levels and looked at him. “Who is that?”

“Father,” she answered. “He’s seeing about the flat in Coventry but is back for dinner.”

Regulus leaned forward, trying to get a better look. “Sirius owes me five galleons. I said he’d show up over the summer and he said he wouldn’t. Of course, Sirius likes to squeeze out of these things, but I thought a pureblood Black would never leave their daughter to Muggles if she were found.” He squeezed her shoulders. Although he was only fourteen, he was quite a bit taller. “Where’s he been hiding?”

“Somewhere in America.”

The two laughed and headed back up the stairs.

Heir Lucius was the first to visit her at Arrowhead Point. The wedding was only a week away and he seemed unconcerned. They were drinking tea, the door left open as Lord Stefan wouldn’t hear about them being left unchaperoned although they were nearly related. As her father was the grandson of Lord Black, he was entitled to the title of ‘Lord Stefan’ although Lily was still only ‘Mademoiselle Stefania’. 

“The Dark Lord apologizes for not coming in person,” Lucius murmured quietly so as not to be overheard. “The war is proving time consuming at the moment. However, he has not forgotten the case of the Evans family.”

She set down her own cup. “I thought they were still under control of the Ministry.”

“They are,” Lucius offered. “Mr. and Mrs. Evans are,” he amended. “Petunia Evans is being let go. She was only four when her sister died and you were brought home. They have determined that she was too young to understand what was happening. The Dark Lord disagrees, however. He means to put her on trial.”

“Trial?” she asked carefully. 

“You and your excellent father are invited if he is so inclined.” Lucius clasped the top of his cane and then flexed his fingers. “It will occur before the wedding.”

She paused, thinking, before calling out, “Father!”

There were steps in the hall and Stefan Black showed himself in the doorway. “Stefania? Is everything all right?”

“Petunia Evans, my supposed sister, is being released from Ministry custody. Beloved wants to put her on trial. Would you like to come?” She looked at him with bright green eyes. “I have no idea what the trial will be like except it will probably involve dark magic and Tuney is a Muggle.”

Her father’s jaw clenched. “Is this really necessary? The Ministry sees fit to release her.”

“She was a cognizant four year old,” Lucius explained, “when Mademoiselle Stefania was brought home to Cokeworth. The Dark Lord would like to learn what she knows. If it puts your mind at rest, her cousin Madam Lestrange will be present as will I, and I will be marrying Mademoiselle Narcissa Black next Saturday.”

Stefan Black went to the mantle and picked up a calling card. “Heir Lucius Malfoy,” he read. “I’d prefer she have a male escort. I will speak with Lord Black and then write to you concerning my decision. I don’t like the idea of her being alone with only her beloved and this Madam Lestrange.”

In the end the invitation was accepted and Stefan was the one to help dress her. “I know a little about politicians,” he explained. “Their wives have to look beautiful.” He went through her closet and found a gold pair of robes with auburn leaves on them, bell sleeves starting at the shoulder and falling to midway past the arm, only to showcase lace that hugged her arms tightly. Her hair was done up in the usual braids, but her face was covered with a half mask of black that allowed her green eyes to shine through.

Lucius Malfoy came to collect her at ten, wearing a black open cape and a white mask that reminded her of a skull, and she was transported to a ballroom, which had two chairs erected on a high platform. Death Eaters and their ladies were already congregating around them in a half circle and Lucius indicated the chairs and, hesitantly, Lily lifted her skirts and walked toward the thrones. As soon as the Dark Lord caught sight of her, he stood and stretched out his hand, and she took it, pianist fingers wrapping around her own, and they breathed together as one before he lifted her down to her seat.

Her hand raised in his, he lifted it up higher so that it was hovering just beneath his lips before he released it once again.

The room became silent as he took his own seat once more.

Then, with a clang, the prisoner was brought in.

Tuney’s hair was lank about her face, a dishwater blonde, her crane’s neck more pronounced as if she hadn’t eaten in several days, her blue eyes watery and ugly. 

“State your name,” the Dark Lord intoned.

When Tuney only looked around in fright, a flash of dark magic, like a whip, hit her across the face, and she fell down to the laughs and jeers of the others present. Lily sat in her throne, staring, horrified that this was happening to the girl who had once been her sister, and yet strangely elated by the feel of the magic present around her.

“Pe-Petunia Marie E-Evans,” she gasped.

The Dark Lord paused and took up Lily’s hand, playing with her fingers. “When did you realize something was wrong with your sister, Lily Rachelle Evans?”

Her eyes bugged and she licked her lips. “She was six. She took a flower between her hands and it opened and closed at her will like the freak that she was—“

“Silence!” the Dark Lord stated, putting up his hand before getting up and going to the girl. “You filthy cur, you dare lie to Lord Voldemort? Crucio!” Petunia writhed and screamed in pain that last so long in the thirty seconds she was under it, and Lily forced herself not to look away.

Petunia spasmed on the floor, her fingers twitching at an odd angle. 

“When did you realize?” the Dark Lord hissed.

“Her hair,” she whispered. “Her hair was wrong.”

And wasn’t that the truth of it all? Her hair was wrong.

She was not an Evans.

And somehow, despite her hair, she was supposed to believe she was a Black.

Could her whole life have turned from one lie into another?

**The End  
**


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